


Tension and Relief

by FlitShadowflame



Category: Book of Life (2014)
Genre: "practicing" for hetero sex, (and by "nothing explicit" I mean "barely three sentences concerns their teenage...activities"), (underage tag just to be extra careful; NO EXPLICIT UNDERAGE CONTENT), It's Not Gay if It's in a Threeway, Joaquin-ish POV, M/M, Maria does not actually appear in this fic, Stream of Consciousness, besties exploring sexuality together, boys being stupid, boys you can call it whatever you want but it's still some juicy man-on-man action, but it's pretty gay if the third person is just a mental presence..., drunk sex but totally consensual i swear, third person being the only girl, y'know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 16:53:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2589107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlitShadowflame/pseuds/FlitShadowflame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which a tumblr post sends me reeling off the deep end to write this fic at midnight.  Joaquin and Manolo spent their whole lives together, bound not just by friendship closer than family, but by their love of the same woman.  And maybe their love of each other, as well...if they'll ever admit it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tension and Relief

**Author's Note:**

> I saw [this post](http://alibrariangoestoikea.tumblr.com/post/102154093977/fernacular-okay-but-like-hear-me-out) and promptly went into the AO3 section for Book of Life.
> 
> There were a respectable amount of OT3 fics, but really there should be a lot more. These are my precious babies and I will ship them forever. Also, Manolo and Joaquin were totally doing it while Maria was in Europe, and it was dumb adolescent boy stuff where they pretended to be "practicing" for Maria, which stopped working when they started going past kisses.
> 
> But they suck at communication and Joaquin is terrible at emotions, so as Joaquin spends less and less time in town, they likewise spend less and less time together...in all ways, but especially in the naked-sexy-funtimes way.

Joaquin sometimes wonders if he was crazy for imagining Manolo doing a lot more than just "helping him out," when he's pretty sure he only thinks of Maria like that. Pretty sure.

Manolo internalizes it as just one more thing his father would be disappointed to know, so he pretends he's just missing a friend, not a...sometime, sort of, lover. (And he wonders why everyone, _everyone_ leaves him).

They take some liquor and sneak off one night, after it's been announced that Maria is returning soon, but before she actually appears. And they drink and laugh and remember the terrors they were as children, and wonder if Maria will be the same, or so different that their feelings may change as well. Maybe they both hope, just a little bit, for that to happen, because the tension over Maria has always felt unnatural (unholy). Maybe they can just be amigos again, all three of them? Wouldn't that be nice...

They get drunker and have to lean on each other lest they flop to the ground, and Manolo hums happily and Joaquin realizes that he's been petting Manolo's hair for the last few minutes. He doesn't stop.

Then Manolo tips over sideways, landing in Joaquin's lap and smothering a laugh in the other man's thigh. Only, Joaquin's not quite laughing, because Manolo is so warm and it's been so long - weeks, practically...like, ten whole days - since he's been this close to anyone and it's been months since it was Manolo, someone he gave a damn about.

Then suddenly they can't tear each other's clothes off fast enough.

It's rough, even rougher than usual, rolling around in the grass and pressing biting kisses to each other's skin. Joaquin belatedly remembers the grease in his coat pocket, something he'd grabbed on a whim just knowing he'd be seeing Manolo, and hoping...

They're more than a little drunk, and they're not talking now, or Joaquin would never have the courage to do this. But he lets his slick hand bypass Manolo's erection, briefly cup his sack and then move even further, until he's rubbing a fingertip at Manolo's entrance and they've never, _never_ done this before, but he has wanted it for so long...

And Manolo makes a sound unlike any that Joaquin has heard from anyone else - animal need and harmonized, musical pleasure all at once. And he tilts his hips up and looks at Joaquin and says, "Don't stop."

Which is more than enough. Joaquin has huge fingers and he's never felt so aware of it until now, nor so awkward and uncomfortable about it, but he tries to be gentle and Manolo repeats himself (" _Don't stop don't stop don't stop_ ") with increasing need whenever Joaquin hesitates or pauses. And then Manolo says, "That's enough, come on, please, please - " and Joaquin doesn't delay any more, just presses in greedily, hands tugging Manolo down on his cock.

He doesn't feel drunk anymore, more like - like he can't believe this is actually, finally happening, and now of all times, knowing Maria is returning (soon, so soon, and he wasn't ready would never be ready). Why hadn't they done this years before? All those stolen moments lying naked next to each other, stroking each other off, or the earlier times when they were so horny and so unaware of what was going on with their bodies that they just rut against each other mindlessly after roughhousing, humping whatever was available. Or the later times, when Joaquin stammered through an explanation of the blowjob a girl had given him before Manolo interrupted him, saying, "Show me." And that was glorious, because it could be quick, no special grease needed (Joaquin's hands grew rough when he was still quite young, from all the swordplay; Manolo could never endure them without some aid), no cleanup (more or less...generally one of them had a rag in one pocket or another to spit into, and as they got older they learned swallowing wasn't so bad, especially when you were in a hurry), and hardly any stripping.

...well, Joaquin supposes they hadn't exactly wasted that time. But they could have been doing this for years, really, he would not have minded that one bit.

Manolo doesn't lie there passively, of course; they've always fucked a little bit like they were fighting, and he ends up rolling Joaquin on his back and riding him for a few moments before Joaquin gets the upper hand again, because he's been stronger than lithe, nimble Manolo-the-torero for a while now, and his hands grip Manolo's hips and move him at Joaquin's pace instead. But Manolo doesn't seem to mind, given the way he pants and moans and tries to rut against Joaquin's belly.

"Touch yourself," Joaquin says, orders really, and Manolo obeys - always eager to please, especially when it's something he actually wants to do.

They fall silent again, aside from the grunts and groans, too afraid that words will taint this, break this fragile, beautiful thing.

But they both know something is ending. And maybe that's why they cling so hard, bite so deep and bruise each other in their urgency: whatever happens next will bring change, and change always means something ends. They hope their friendship can survive what will undoubtedly be its greatest test. And yet, hoping and dreaming have sustained them both for most of their lives, so perhaps things will work out after all.


End file.
